


Derry High

by aesoprock



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), High School, M/M, Mentions of Attempted Suicide, Mentions of Violence, POV First Person, Richie Tozier is a Mess, Stanley Uris-centric, Strangers to Lovers, chapters with both pov, even tho it says disease in the title, kind of hate each other at first, no illness, richie does stupid things, richie is a sophomore, slow at the beginning picks up around like... 12, some homophobia but it gets resolved, stanley is a freshman, stanley uris has a crisis, stanley uris plays the clarinet, stanleys pov, they share a band class
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:15:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 15,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22974616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aesoprock/pseuds/aesoprock
Summary: a story about everything that went down during stanley uris's freshman yearpublished 3/1/20 - 3/18/20
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Richie Tozier/Stanley Uris
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	1. Chapter One

this fanfiction is based on a true story

i wrote and edited this in like 2 1/2 months and its based on my freshman year, partially, but in my freshman year almost none of this happened im kinda disappointed to say

i had a crush on a girl and i saw her doing a lot of things! that was my inspiration for this work and its done now, i'll post once or twice a day so enjoy!

this work is dedicated to my cat, calorie. she has been my emotional support 


	2. Chapter Two

My freshman year was going just fine, until I noticed him.

“Richie! What the fuck?” a kempt-looking black kid exclaimed, rushing closer to the boy I first noticed. Richie, a scrawny sophomore with thick glasses and brown hair, was holding a tampon in his right hand. Unused, thankfully, belonging to some poor girl who probably happened to drop it out of her pocket or backpack. 

“Bombs away!” Richie yelled, pushing the back part of the tampon in, so that the cotton part- you know, the part that absorbs blood- came out of the other side. He watched as it fell straight to the ground, perhaps disappointed that the tampon didn’t shoot out at the distance or speed that he wanted. To compensate, he picked it up and threw it across the room. This caught the attention of a few people around the room, but nobody cared enough to stop him.

The black kid covered his face with his arms, not wanting to be touched by it, but getting hit anyway. “Ew, man!” he laughed, glancing at the discarded tampon after it fell to the floor. Nearby, a redheaded girl watched them with an amused smirk, pulling out a pen as the bell rang. 

Richie met her stare, smiling sheepishly at her. “Shit, sorry Bev, if that was yours.”

The girl named Bev shook her head no, but at that point I was lost in my own thoughts. I looked down at my desk, wondering how someone could be so childish- especially a sophomore.

The teacher came into the room, and everyone immediately straightened up. Richie and the black kid sat down, while Ben scurried into class with a crumpled note from his history teacher. This happened often, and I couldn’t say I cared to find out why. Maybe Ben was a history nerd and argued with the teacher after class or something.

Richie, a sophomore, doing stupid things like playing with random tampons he found on the floor… hell, Ben and I were freshmen and way more mature than Richie was. Why is he in this class? This was honors geometry after all, and there were a few random sophomores scattered around, but it was mostly advanced freshman like Ben and I. I missed Eddie, my best friend at my old school. Eddie would hate this Richie kid, and we would make fun of him together if he were here. Sadly, my mom had to take me out of Bangor and put me in Derry for high school. Derry was a much smaller school, but it had better testing scores- apparently. By the looks of Richie, though… I wasn’t sure it was true.

I sat in the back of class with Bill and Ben. The three of us being outsiders, we didn’t pay too much attention to anyone else in the class, which was why I didn’t notice Richie until this very day. 

Bill was a sophomore, that JROTC, serious looking kid that nobody really likes hanging out with except for me and sometimes Ben, when Bill could give him the right answers to our work. Ben was not good at math at all, but put in honors classes anyway for his good work in nearly every other subject. I was good at math, and so was Bill. Naturally, we split most of our worksheets in half and I would work on one side, while Bill did the other. It saved a lot of time down the road.

Then I got an idea.

“Hey Bill, uh, you know that…” I paused, pretending like I was trying to remember his name. “That… Richie kid?” I asked, hoping I wouldn’t be met with questions as to why I was asking in the first place.

I could remember the day Bill and I first became friends. Ben was absent on the first day and I had nobody to talk to, so I sat in the back corner of the classroom. Bill stormed in a few minutes later, sitting down next to me and putting his head down on his desk. “I f-fuh-fucking h-hate everyone in this c-class,” he muttered.

“Me too,” I said back quietly.

And from that moment on, Bill and I were friends.

Bill looked up from his worksheet and over at me. “R-Ruh-Richie… Tozier? I know him, wuh-why?” he asked, furrowing his eyebrows. It wasn’t normal for me to ask about people in Bill’s grade, mostly because I didn’t have too many questions about other people. I never cared about them. Until now.

“Well, uh, can you tell me about him?” I asked, not wanting to seem weird, but at the same time this Richie kid intrigued me and I wanted to figure out why.

Bill nodded, chewing his bottom lip. “He’s really l-luh-loud, ah-and he can get annoying s-sometimes, but he’s funny i-ih-if you need some entertainment. Um…” he paused, breaking eye contact with me to narrow his eyes at Richie at the front of the room. “Ih-Is there anything you wuh-wa-wah-want to know? Ah-About h-h-him, I mean. I don’t know wh-what you’re asking.”

Nodding, I looked over at Richie too. Richie, the black guy, and the ginger girl were all huddled around one desk. Maybe doing their work, most likely not. What kinds of questions did I want to ask? What would seem least suspicious? But mostly, what did I really need to know?

“Well, is he like… stupid?” Not the greatest question to ask, but immaturity didn’t mean he was stupid.

Bill hesitated. “Sometimes I duh-don’t know. Sometimes I w-wonder if he’s r-re-really smart, on the insuh-s-side, and he’s just pretending to be dumb.”

Nodding again, I pulled out my pencil and tried to focus on the first question of the worksheet our teacher had passed out. I couldn’t even read it, with my mind too focused on Richie, so I kept talking.

“Right. Do you know him well?”

“W-We… drih-drifted. After eighth grade, we h-had no cluh-classes in our… freshman year, so we never tuh-ta-t-talked. And. Y-Yeah, I m-mean…” Bill trailed off, shaking his head and deciding to focus on his own work as well. I knew immediately that Bill was either lying or hiding something, but I didn’t want to call him out on it. People lied all the time, and I could always press on him about it later. Plus, maybe it was sensitive- or he didn’t want to talk about Richie while he was in the room. 

I took a deep breath. No, I did kind of want answers. Out of nowhere, I just randomly noticed this Richie kid, and now that I was asking about him, Bill felt he had to lie?

Sighing, I wrote my name at the top of my paper and sunk back into my seat, defeated. I’d have to learn more about Richie soon.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy birthday we updatin

tw for mentioned violence

i know this is cliche or whatever but bear with me man

\-----

“Yeah. He hurt Richie, like, really bad. I didn’t see it happen but I heard about it…”

I didn’t want to eavesdrop. But in this case, I had no choice. It involved Richie, getting… hurt?

A week had passed since I first “noticed” Richie in geometry, and I was slowly gaining more information on him. Not on purpose- I didn’t want to stalk him and know every detail of his life, but… I was curious, and happened to just be in the right place at the right time. Since then, I noticed a few other things.

One, the two of us shared geometry and biology together. Two, Richie knew almost everyone. Literally. I would follow Richie from geometry to biology, and Richie would greet a million different people. Sometimes Richie greeted them with an inside joke or a nickname, and other times he would greet them with a simple “hey sexy,” something that threw me off at first, but after a while made sense. Richie was weird, and I could figure that out even without Bill reminding me.

Two, Mike and Beverly seemed to be his only tight friends, or at least the only ones that   
I knew about. Beverly was in both of our classes, and Mike only in geometry, but he talked to the two of them far more than anyone else. Again, he knew and joked around with pretty much everyone, but always came back to Beverly and Mike.

Which was weird. If Richie was so “annoying,” and was supposed to be this unlikable son of a bitch, then why did everyone like him? Some people obviously didn’t, but it wasn’t adding up for me.

“Oh, right, well that means they’re broken up?” Beverly asked. It was a boy I didn’t recognize who spoke first and grabbed my attention. The two of them were sitting on top of a desk, leaning in close, talking about someone breaking up with Richie and then someone busting Richie up. I hadn’t heard the beginning of the conversation, but I knew enough to assume that Richie had a pretty rough week.

I glanced over at Richie, who was joking around with two girls (that I didn’t recognize either, although I’d been paired up with one of them for a group project,) and he didn’t seem too “busted up.” Sure, he could be trying to cover everything that happened, but…

I stood up with my paper and moved closer. I needed to hear this.

“But he’s right over there! How didn’t he get suspended, he literally… what the fuck,” Beverly murmured, and I was glad she didn’t notice me move closer. I was facing the wall, pretending to work. “I don’t even know how Richie dated him, that’s just… fucking… crazy. God.”

I froze in cold blood, staring down at the paper I’d been working on pretty diligently up until I started hearing Beverly. So Richie dated… a guy… and someone that had beaten him up?

I thought a little further, and realized it would be more logical if they dated first and then the guy beat Richie up, ending their relationship. I felt bad for listening to the two of them talk, especially about something so personal, and I felt even worse about what happened to Richie. I could hear Richie laughing and yelling about something from across the room, and I wondered how he was holding up so well.

Still, part me was filled with something- euphoria? Adrenaline?

Why?

The other boy sighed, and I could see from the corner of my eye that he was shaking his foot, trying to think of what to say. “I thought he was pretty chill. Stoners are supposed to be chill, right? I bet Richie did something stupid and pissed him off, but still…” he trailed off, looking away from Beverly. With that description, I knew who it was.

Frank. The ginger stoner looking guy. I would’ve never expected Frank and Richie together, even if Richie was openly gay. They just didn’t fit each other, at all, and then I wondered madly what I could possibly mean by “didn’t fit together.” Maybe it was because of how different the two of them were, personality-wise and physically. Frank was tall, and wasn’t overweight, but he wasn’t as skinny as Richie was. Richie was pretty much a toothpick.

I looked over at Frank as Beverly and the other guy continued their conversation. Frank was in the corner, his feet propped up on his desk, laughing and joking with his other stoner buddies. I began to wonder if Frank even apologized to Richie, or if he regretted it at all.

-

Not one day later, Richie had someone new.

Lucky duck, I thought gloomily, only dimly aware of my developing… attachment to Richie at the moment. Richie was walking down the hall, backpack slung over his right shoulder, holding hands with a pretty Asian girl. Everyone was heading to lunch.

I subconsciously started to walk faster, getting closer to Richie. I could see some scribbles on his backpack, maybe they were drawings- words- his friend’s signatures? The closer I got I realized that I was right, because I could recognize a few names.

Beverly Marsh

MIKE

There were other names, too, maybe the people he talked to in the hallway. A few scribbled out names. Frank was probably amongst those. I couldn’t find Bill’s name anywhere. Was he scribbled out, or did he even sign his name in the first place?

I sighed, way too loud considering how close I was to Richie, and I wished I could’ve signed his backpack. How long ago did Richie do it? Last week? The beginning of freshman year? Hell, middle school? I didn’t know, and I didn’t expect to know anytime soon.

I also noticed some marks on Richie’s neck, and started to connect the dots. Those had to be from Frank. Not too noticeable, but when you’re focusing on every detail… was hard to miss.

I made a disgusted noise to myself and started to walk faster, passing Richie up.

-

I really couldn’t stop asking about Richie.

I sat at my usual lunch table with Bill and Ben. That was it, our friend group, and it was fine that way. But today I needed to talk to someone about Richie, so I turned to Bill and asked my question.

“Hey. If so many people think Richie is ugly and annoying, how come he has a girlfriend?”

Bill didn’t seem caught off guard by this. He set down his fork and made eye contact, sitting up a little straighter to address me. “Really? I d-duh-don’t know. He’s fuh-fucking ugly, and I g-guess i-ih-it’s just the Richie Tuh-Tozier disease.”

What? Before I could ask, I noticed Richie come in a little late to lunch.

Maybe not a little late. Very much late. I wondered why, because his girlfriend was there before him… maybe Richie was cheating, or maybe he was involved with Frank somehow. My mind raced with questions, but ultimately I had no clue. No goddamn clue.

“The Richie Tozier disease?” I asked sarcastically, starting to grin.

“J-Juh-Just despite how uh-ugly and f-fucking ah-nnoying he is, people still luh-like him.”

I nodded and smiled, turning away and starting to eat again, eyes on Richie.

Oblivious to the fact that I had the Richie Tozier disease myself.


	4. Chapter Four

It was the second day after Richie and the Asian girl got together, and I managed to figure out her name: Vivian! And as soon as I figured out her name, I realized I had her on Snapchat.

As I walked to lunch, I wondered what I should even do with that information. I couldn’t message her and try to get her to break up with Richie, that would cause drama. So what? Did I even want them to break up now? Or later, on their own terms? I spotted Vivian and Richie up ahead. What does she see in him? What does he see in her? Who asked who out?

I caught up to them. Right behind them, like yesterday.

Vivian gave me a look, and to avoid suspicion I moved past them, playing it off as “you two were walking too slow and I’m just trying to get to lunch so fuck you, get a room and nobody cares if you’re holding hands.” It worked, because they resumed talking immediately after I passed.

“So, your house? What time?”

“Uh, right after school if you want. Well, I gotta go.” This was Richie’s voice.

“Okay, bye!” she said back, and I could hear the smile in her voice. Where was Richie going? I remembered how he came into lunch late yesterday, too- maybe he met up with someone, but whatever he was doing, Vivian was either fine with it or unaware of it. Maybe he lied to her, or maybe it was something completely normal that I was missing.

I continued walking, making it through the lunch line fairly quickly and sitting down next to Ben and Bill. Lately, my mind was on one thing and one thing only- Richie. I couldn’t seem to shake it off, either, but I’m sure you know that.

-

He walked in between the rows of tables. his tray in his hands, looking at Vivian. All smiles. Richie sat down. “Hey.”

She was the only girl at that table, taking Frank’s place. Well, what I assumed used to be Frank’s place, anyway. I wondered how she put up with both Richie and all of his friends, since they were pretty notorious for doing stupid shit. But Richie seemed to take it down a little bit when he had a girl sitting at his table.

They started talking, and I couldn’t read lips too well from there so I looked down at my tray. How did he pick his lovers? He didn’t have high standards, that was clear. And neither did she.

“Y-You wuh-w-watching him?”

Bill was catching on. 

“Uh, well, He’s pretty distracting,” I joked, swallowing a forkful of mashed potatoes that I didn’t actually like. Ben was writing something in a notebook, off in his own little world. “Why?” I asked.

“I see you watching him a l-luh-lot.”

I nod, not wanting to talk about it, yet wanting to talk about it so much at the same time. Did he know something that I didn’t? Bill probably knew plenty. He’d been at this school his entire life, and I just moved here this year. 

“Well, I heard what happened to him.” I looked over at Richie again. You couldn’t tell he had bruises on his neck unless you were specifically looking for them. They were only two days old or so.

Bill nods. “I used to be f-fuh-friends with him, I tuh-told you th-that, didn’t I? In seventh grade. We d-drifted, th-thuh-though.”

“Why’d you drift?”

He clears his throat. “We just… didn’t h-ha-have a- a l-lot of cuh-classes together.”

I smiled, hoping Bill couldn’t tell that it was fake. “Well, you two can still reconnect, right?” I suggested. The closer Bill got to Richie, the closer I would be to Richie. If the two of them wanted to be friends again, they would start hanging out, and Richie would notice me. For better or for worse. Plus, it would be better to figure him out if I’m around him more, right? Instead of trying to unscramble everything from a distance?

Bill doesn’t seem to like the idea. “No, no, I’m fine. I d-don’t think he would want to.”

“Oh. Okay,” I nod again, pretending to know what he was talking about. Why wouldn’t Richie want to talk to Bill again? Maybe they had a terrible argument, and Bill was lying about drifting. Or Bill could’ve gotten annoyed with him and decided to end it.

I stood up and walked to dump my tray, wondering what happened between the two, and how I could try to find out.


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry i haven't updated in forever! i didn't forget, i just have crippling mental issues. all four chapters will come out today.

It was Friday night. I finished all of my homework and decided it was time to go to sleep, so I took my sleeping pills and laid down. Thirty minutes. Two hours. Sleep never came.

I opened Snapchat and started scrolling through everyone’s stories. Bill had one, a picture of a guy in a JROTC uniform. Did I mention he was in JROTC? The caption was “Happy birthday man,” and nothing else. I wasn’t aware that he had friends other than Ben and I.

I didn’t care about that. What I did care about was Vivian’s story, though.

A picture of her legs, a hand halfway up her thigh. She was wearing ripped jean shorts, sitting on a couch. 

Caption, “him. 11:11,” with a big red heart next to it.

Richie’s hand halfway up her thigh.

I threw my phone onto the ground as hard as I possibly could and shoved my face into my pillow, gripping my blankets tight. Why did it make me so angry? I knew they wouldn’t be together forever, but it made my insides boil. The picture and caption made my hands shake.

I didn’t go to sleep for a long time after that.


	6. Chapter Six

Richie didn’t seem to have very good luck with love, because the next day at school- Monday, three days after the picture on Snapchat- they broke up. Vivian cheated on him with some other guy and they were over, just like that. Word spread pretty quickly, especially in such a small school. Everyone knew your business in this place, and I was glad that I didn’t have much business, unlike Richie.

But Richie has this weird way of immediately finding someone to get with right after he gets cheated on, or broken up with, or nearly murdered by his stoner ex-boyfriend. You wanna know how I know?

It was Tuesday, the day after they broke up. I was staying after school for the academic team, something my mom told me would be good on college resumes, but I figured she was only saying that because she was the coach. Maybe she was right, but she pretty much forced me to be on it. She was also a sophomore-junior English teacher, and I was lucky that I didn’t get her for English. You know how moms are.

I was walking down the hallway after using the bathroom, grabbing the rail and heading down the stairs. Nobody was allowed to be in the halls after five minutes of the dismissal bell, unless you were in a club or had a pass. Richie didn’t seem to care about that rule, because I saw him making out with someone next to the stairs. Nobody else was around, yet they didn’t see me. I understood why they thought they were safe.

I caught a glimpse of dark skin. No, not Mike. Mike had something like a buzz cut, and this guy had curly hair. Lighter skin than Mike. Biracial? Same height as Richie. They both clearly knew how to kiss.

He wore a soccer hoodie. 

So, some biracial guy on the soccer team. I didn’t have him in any of my classes. I didn’t know his name, I didn’t know anything about what he was like. Still, seeing them together made me angry too. 

I turned around and stomped back up the stairs, hoping they would hear me. Maybe Richie would be a little more careful next time and I wouldn’t have to see anything like that again. I was going to walk home, and I didn’t care if my mom came home and yelled at me until her throat gave out. No academic team for me today.


	7. Chapter Seven

The pattern continued.

By the next day, I pretty much assumed Richie and the biracial guy were over. It wasn’t through rumors that I came to this conclusion. 

It was Wednesday. Richie went through three different people in less than seven days. But now, there was a new person flirting with him in geometry. And I had to sit there and watch it happen, because I wasn’t capable of talking to him myself. Why? 

Another guy, and they were very openly flirting with each other, not bothering to hide it at all. Except this guy seemed more feminine. Maybe Richie didn’t have a type at all. Maybe he took anyone he could get, and that was understandable. 

Vivian started talking to me in biology. At first I thought she was using me for answers, which was perfectly fine by me, because that meant I got to listen to her trash-talk Richie. 

“He’s got, like, a new girl.”

I blinked, because I was a little unaware of whatever girl he was flirting with this time. Maybe she was in a class I didn’t share with him. But if he did have a girl, that meant he was cheating… right? Or was Richie just jokingly flirting with the guy in geometry and I didn’t catch onto that? Richie’s sense of humor was all over the place, and so were his relationships. He was a hard one to figure out, and the fact that he was flirting with a girl that I didn’t even know about made me feel left out. There was way more to Richie than what I was seeing of him. He had so much more going on, five whole classes that I couldn’t keep track of him in. We only shared two classes, plus lunch. There were millions of things I could’ve been unaware of, or just plain ignoring. How would I deal with this?

“Oh?” I asked, not wanting to give away the fact Richie was gay, or bi, or whatever. Maybe he was using girls to suppress it. I had no clue, and was at a loss at this point. Would anything become clear to me?

“Yup. She cut her hair short, I think… she’s trying to be a guy or something. Honestly, what a downgrade from me. Dating a fucking tranny.”

I nodded along, deciding not to call her out on all of the shitty things she just said. A trans guy. How shallow could Vivian be? Clearly Richie did have bad taste for dating this bitch, and that went to show how much better he was than her. 

“Yeah. I don’t even know why I dated him, at this point… like, he was way too clingy.” She looked away from me and down at her paper, filling out a couple questions. I knew what she was doing. Making Richie look like a mistake, trying to get me to like her, to understand why she would date him and why that was a bad decision. I saw right through it.

I started working on my paper too, when she started to talk again. “I only cheated because, like, I didn’t know how to break up with him. And I think I only started dating him because… I felt bad, maybe. Like this guy, complete stoner, just tries to strangle him, and then Richie asks me out the next school day? How do you say no without… feeling bad?”

There were a lot of things about Richie I had to piece together. Where was he going at lunch? Why was he dating such terrible people? But there was one thing I knew for sure. 

Even though I knew I could find ways to use her, this bitch made my blood boil. 

-

By lunch, it was official. Richie and the guy from geometry were dating, and he had taken Vivian’s seat by the time I got out of the lunch line. Richie was late as usual, and again, I wondered where he went every day. I also felt bad for the new guy, considering all of his past relationships ended badly- or at least the ones I knew about. I wasn’t sure how his thing with the soccer player ended, or if it ended at all. I couldn’t imagine Richie cheating, though.

I heard someone say the new guy’s name. Brandon. Theatre kid, trans. Gay. Again, what did Richie see in him? Or Vivian? Or Frank? As far as I knew, the only person that hadn’t wronged him yet was the guy he was making out with, and I still wasn’t sure they were split up yet. I didn’t want to jump to conclusions, because Richie could be cheating after all. 

“Y-You got a crush on him? Is that wh-what’s h-happening here?” Bill asked, catching me off guard. I looked at him, visibly horrified, and he only laughed. “Don’t worry. I c-cuh-could tell since yesterday, and I w-wuh-won’t tell anyone.”

I nodded, shifting uncomfortably in my seat. Was I that easy to read? I knew I would need to start making efforts to hide that I liked him, or I would be found out soon. By others, or Richie himself. I wasn’t sure which would be worse.

Or maybe, since he was going through people so quickly, I needed to find a way to talk to him and show him that I wasn’t as shitty as everyone else he dated. Or start talking to Beverly and Mike, which seemed like an easier task, because I wouldn’t screw up much around the two of them as I would with Richie. Then maybe they would introduce me to him, assuming they weren’t embarrassed of him. They weren’t, they were good friends to him. Good people. I decided I would talk to Richie tomorrow. 

Tomorrow.

But how?


	8. Chapter Eight

I was trailing behind him as he walked to geometry. Richie greeted more people passing by, and walked with Beverly as he did so. Was she going to be his next girlfriend? I doubted that. She was pretty enough to get Richie to like her, if she wanted, but she didn’t. Because they weren’t together.

Or was she waiting for the right moment to swoop in and get him?

Before I really observed Richie, I thought that everyone hated him, but it didn’t make sense how he was friends with so many people and found dates so easily. Maybe the girls he dated were coverups- then again, he only dated one girl this year, and even she admitted it was like a real relationship and she didn’t know why she said yes.

We got into the geometry classroom and Beverly broke away from Richie to sit down at her seat, next to Mike. I tapped Richie on the shoulder, because I had a plan.

“Hey, um. Can you do me a favor?” I spoke, watching his facial expression closely to try and figure out what he thought of me. 

It was real- this was really happening. He was turning around, looking at me, making eye contact with me. My hand fell back to my side and I clenched my fists to keep my hands from shaking. Was this it? Were we finally going to become friends?

He narrowed his eyes at me. “Shut the fuck up, man.” Richie turned around and went to his seat, talking to Mike and Beverly like nothing even happened. He didn’t mention me, talk about me, say why he had a problem with me.

It hit me like an arrow in the chest.

The whole class saw it. I didn’t care, that wasn’t what I was concerned about. Why did he say that to me? I didn’t even do anything to him! I was going to ask if he did the geometry homework and pretend I hadn’t, so maybe he can give me some half-assed wrong answers if he did decide to work on some of it. Then maybe we would talk a little, and become acquaintances, if not friends. Then he and Brandon would break up, and we would date. I would be next in line, and maybe it wouldn’t work out due to some unfortunate circumstances, but I would be with him. At least for a little bit.

Clearly, Richie didn’t have that same plan for us.

I walked to the back of the classroom and sat down, fuming. What problem did he have with me? Maybe he thought I said something else, maybe he didn’t hear me right. Or maybe he was just… having a bad day.

I knew I wouldn’t try talking to him again for a long time.

-

Lunch time, again. Richie comes in late. again. This time, my focus isn’t on Richie, because I hear someone talking.

I look at the table to my right. Where he’s sitting. The biracial soccer player that I caught making out with Richie.

“Richie Tozier? Yeah. Definitely a faggot, that’s why we’re not friends anymore. I used to think he was cool back when we smoked together, don’t ask me why.”

I huffed, looking down at my tray and trying not to be noticed by any of the guys at that table. I had a few theories about him right away, one of which included that maybe he regretted making out with Richie, and was now lying to everyone to hide it or make himself feel better. But I saw them, and I knew the truth.

“Really, Daniel?” one guy asked, leaning back in his chair and laughing. I knew that name from somewhere. Where, though? That was his name, but I wasn’t sure where I’d heard it before. Maybe one of the guys Vivian came to me about in biology, where she always lays all of her stupid boy problems on me. 

Daniel nods, and I know he nods because I can still see him from the corner of my eye even when I’m pretending to eat. “We were hanging out, you know- his house, some other guys were there too, and they left to get food, and he tried to touch my dick.”

I shook my head. Why did everyone make up lies about Richie? Why was everyone out to hurt him? Why?

I knew if I was with him, I wouldn’t hurt him or lie about him. I wouldn’t do anything like that to him. Yet he still pushed me away. Maybe the problem was that he didn’t know me yet. Maybe I needed to try again, and prove my worth. 

-

I was in biology class, reading a book and praying to god that Vivian was absent instead of just late to class so I wouldn’t have to hear her rambling, when I heard Beverly speaking to that one guy again. The one who was talking to her about Frank, when I first heard about it. His name was Charlie. I liked hearing their chats, it gave me more insight into the people Richie was with, and what Beverly and Charlie thought about them. This time it was about Brandon, the theatre kid that nobody really liked except for Richie, apparently. Not because he was trans, but because he was bossy. And their chat only proved it.

“Beverly,” Charlie started, sitting down next to her in their shared desk. “You know Richie fucking blocked me on Snapchat, right?”

Beverly looks confused, and she asks, “What? Why?” before putting her pencil down and turning to Charlie. A passing thought lingered in my mind. Would the two of them be a good couple?

Maybe not so much. I liked them as friends.

“It’s that fucking Brandon kid. I was sitting with Richie at lunch and Brandon made him fucking block every single guy on there. But not the girls. Hope he knows that Richie dates girls too, or is he so braindead he doesn’t fucking notice?” He was pissed, shaking his head and huffing. “I mean, he doesn’t even cheat. It was that Vivian girl. Richie has the worst goddamn taste. I swear, and he’s just letting Brandon control him.” 

I chewed my bottom lip and glanced up at the two of them. 

Beverly sighs. “Why can’t he pick a sane person to date every once in a while? Like, how insecure do you have to be to make your boyfriend block every other guy on Snapchat?”

Charlie shook his head again, fuming. “I’m straight, and I’m not gonna magically turn gay, so I don’t know what Brandon’s worried about. Is Richie not allowed to have friends? I bet if Richie did that to him he’d make a fuss about it, like he does fucking everything. I’m seriously so sick of this, Bev.” He rests his elbow on the table and holds his forehead with his hand. “We need to break them up. Get him with someone stable. I swear, he hasn’t dated a single sane person this year.”

So Charlie agreed with me, and I was right. Richie had terrible taste, and he needed me, even if he didn’t know it yet.

I’d only have to try again to get his attention.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bruh i missed another day but sometimes life be like that

Richie’s relationship with Brandon lasted significantly longer than his last three relationships did. (And by that, I mean, they were together for a week. A week, which was an amazing amount of time for Richie.)

But, as you might’ve already guessed, they broke up. Richie talked about it a lot, saying Brandon was too controlling and bossy, which anyone would have agreed with. 

In other news, I added him on Snapchat. I found him on quick add, thankfully, and he added me back, possibly not recognizing me from the time he told me to “shut the fuck up.” I was disappointed to find that he never posted anything on his story. Did he keep private stories? Or did he use something else more, like Instagram?

I was also disappointed to find that he had another new girlfriend.

Kaitlyn Lackey, who was in my band class, and was actually quite nice. Pretty, too, and I couldn’t tell for the life of me how the two of them ended up together. She seemed fine, though, and he was happy with her, so I couldn’t find much room to complain aside from the fact that she wasn’t me. She played Flute in our band class, was on the girls’ golf team, and had blonde hair. Kaitlyn put up with Richie pretty well,from what I could tell.

But Richie has a secret that even she doesn’t know about. 

I was leaving Biology, on my way to band class, which was pretty far across the school. I found myself stuck behind Richie and another guy, who I thought his name was Marsh or something. A last name? That was when I saw Marsh slip Richie something, and Richie slip Marsh something in return. I knew it was drugs, because I could see the baggie in Richie’s hand. They weren’t even smart enough to look behind them and see me, which I was thankful for. I should’ve realized this earlier- he dated Frank, for god’s sake. A stoner. Even that Daniel guy said him and Richie used to smoke together, which meant that it had to be weed. But I had other concerns. Was Richie still smoking it? Or was he dealing? Buying for a friend, even? I didn’t know, and I wasn’t going to rat him out because I wanted him to like me. If he found out I ratted, or even knew I saw the exchange, he would hate me forever. I couldn’t have that.

So I stayed quiet, but also promised myself I’d keep a closer eye on him from now on.


	10. Chapter Ten

A month passed, and then I started to question myself.

It was clear that, at this point, I definitely had a crush or some sort of obsession with Richie Tozier. But was it too much? Was I bordering on stalker, like that one show You?

Even after considering this, I couldn’t just try to tune him out or stop thinking about him. He was far too loud, and he was everywhere that I was, all the time. Or maybe I was just everywhere he was. I didn’t follow him around after school to his house. I didn’t sneak in his room and smell his underwear. I didn’t steal his phone and go through all of his text messages. But watching him and keeping tabs on everyone he interacted with started to feel a little wrong, especially for such a long amount of time.

Then I found out something else about Richie.

I was walking to the office before lunch, my mind on him again. Luckily my grades weren’t slipping, but it was like he was inside my mind all of the time. I was going to turn in a note for missing a day of school, but then I passed the nurses office and saw him.

The nurse was giving him something, and then it all clicked. ADHD medicine. 

He wasn’t meeting up with someone in secret. He wasn’t skipping or doing drugs or sneaking into classrooms during the times he was late for lunch. Richie was just taking ADHD medicine. 

I kept walking and turned my note into the basket. So much for that.

-

The day after winter break, when everyone finally returned to school, I was surprised to find that Richie and Kaitlyn were still together. That would make two months, two solid months of Richie actually keeping a relationship with someone. I considered that maybe they were good for each other. I knew they wouldn’t stay together, not through high school and definitely not forever, but maybe their relationship was a good thing. She was giving him stability, something none of his past boyfriends or girlfriends had. Maybe he picked a good one.

Richie joined concert band, which wasn’t something I ever expected him to do. He switched his schedule halfway through the year to join his girlfriend, even though band wasn’t a semester class and it went on for a full year. He picked Trombone, which was good because we didn’t have a lot of low brass. but also bad because that meant he was behind me all the time. I couldn’t watch him during class or keep an eye on him, but I could hear him, which helped a lot. I played Clarinet, sharing the second row with the Saxophones. I was grateful to hear his conversations, though, because him and Mike talked a lot. Mike played Trombone too, and they goofed off nearly every time they weren’t playing. Everyone around the two of them was sick of it, but not me. 

I could, however, keep tabs on his girlfriend, who sat right in front of me because she was a Flute. She had a small group of friends that sat around her, and they talked nearly as much as Mike and Richie did, but not as loud. Whenever I listened to them, I never heard anything bad about Richie. All good things. 

I feared they would be together until the school year ended. I wanted to be with Richie, and I knew I wouldn’t have three classes with him next year like I did this year. With my Clarinet in my lap, I sat back and listened to Richie and Mike’s conversation, coming to the conclusion that if I wanted to make a move or become friends with him, I needed to do it fast. Fast, before the school year ended.

It was only January, which meant I had until May to talk to him. 

Little did I know, my chance would come sooner than I ever expected.


	11. Chapter Eleven

Another long, sad month passed.

Kaitlyn broke up with him, and I was starting to understand why.

Richie was annoying. As the days went on, I started to get sick of him. Maybe it was because I watched him too much, knew too much about him, or constantly tried to analyze him. Or maybe it was that, plain and simple, he was annoying.

Every time I sat in band class, practicing the pieces, I wanted to whip around and punch him right in the face every time he referred to his Trombone as his “bone.” Or every time, in Biology, that he would make a joke about him being gay. At first they were funny, at least to Mike and the people around him, but I was sick of it. I wanted to rip my hair out. 

And with Kaitlyn gone, the two of them broken up, a disaster was on its way. One I would never expect, even after every bad thing that happened to Richie.

Richie and Kaitlyn lasted three months. A Guinness world record. And after they split, he found another girl immediately. Why would I expect anything different? But I wasn’t sure I wanted his next to be me anymore. I wasn’t sure I liked him at all. I hated him, and I wanted to stop caring about him so badly, but it was like a disease. The more I watched, the more I loathed him. 

The new girl was Lilly Faulkner, but she was so special, she had to go by a nickname. Ash. You could tell she was an emo from a mile away. Ash played Trumpet, and clung to Richie like he was the only thing that could keep her alive.

I could see him lose interest in her every passing second of every day. He wanted out of the relationship, and he didn’t know how to do it. Ash was energetic, constantly talking his head off and obsessing over him. I assumed he would’ve learned his mistake after dating Brandon, someone similar to Ash, but maybe I was wrong this time.

Ash shut him up, made him so tired and exhausted it was like he didn’t want to talk anymore. He still made dumb jokes, but they changed. They were new jokes, ones I didn’t want to bash my skull in immediately after hearing them. The only times he really seemed alive were biology and geometry, the classes he didn’t have with her. How did she not see it? She was taking the life out of him.

Beverly and Charlie kept at it, judging the people he dated. From what I could hear during their Biology conversations, they liked Kaitlyn but thought something was up with her. And once him and Kaitlyn were over, they talked about Ash. Hated Ash, so much. I wondered what they would say about me, if Richie and I ever got together. I could imagine them now, leaning against the counters with their arms crossed, staring across the classroom at us flirting or joking around with each other. Trash talking me, or maybe not. Maybe saying good things.

And that’s how it happened. That’s how I started to like Richie again.

Then Ash stopped showing up to school. Nobody cared too much, but when Ash’s friends asked Richie about it, he always shrugged and told them that she had the flu “or something.” Fair enough, but wouldn’t he be able to text her and find out where she really was? Maybe he was covering up for what she was actually doing. She could’ve been skipping, or she might’ve moved away. But if she moved, Richie wasn’t acting any differently. In fact, he was getting better. Hyperactive and off his rocker. Ash was like some sort of parasite, draining the life from him. Did he not see this coming?

The last thing that happened before the storm was Vivian- the Asian girl that dated Richie after things ended with Frank- asking me out in biology class. I turned her down politely, telling her that I still had a girlfriend at my old school. A complete lie, one that I hoped she wouldn’t spread around, because I wanted to make it very clear to Richie that I was single, and would be single for a long time. 

Ash showed up to school the next day, and that was when it all broke loose.


	12. Chapter Twelve

The day Ash came back, I didn’t suspect anything going downhill until I came out of the bathroom and started to walk back to class. That was when I started to hear voices from down the hall. I hid behind the corner and stared down the hall, thinking that maybe it was a group of guys sneaking out of their classes to vape in the bathroom. It wouldn’t be the first time. You can pick up on a lot of things when people think they’re alone with their friends.

But I was wrong. The voices sounded like they belonged to a group of girls. They came from a flight of stairs, and then I could see them. Richie was there with the girls, Ash included, and I started to panic. They were definitely going to see me, or figure out I was there somehow. But I didn’t move, instead deciding to freeze in my spot and go from there if they did happen to catch me.

I recognized most of them. Richie was the only guy, and there were a few other girls from band that I knew, but there were some that I didn’t know. Ash’s freshman friends? I didn’t have many classes with other freshman.

“Just explain.” Ash’s voice. They were all facing Richie, as if he commited a crime and was about to be thrown in the slammer. 

“I didn’t fucking kiss her! I don’t even like her, and we broke up a long time ago, whoever told you that is fucking lying.” Richie’s voice. “She’s a bitch. You know she talks shit about me all the time, why would I go ba-ck to her?” he tried to explain, his voice cracking. I believed Richie, but he was almost at his breaking point. I considered stepping out from behind the corner and stopping their little interrogation, but what good would that do? I needed to hear more, and this wasn’t my time. Not now.

One of the girls, a heavier one, pushed Richie down onto the ground without warning. Even if he wasn’t off guard, it would still be easy for her, due to the weight difference. “You wouldn’t hit a girl, would you?” she said innocently, as he sat up on his elbows and looked at them from below. I, again, considered stepping in, but decided not to. Maybe that was a bad decision on my part.

“What if I died, Richie? What if I died, just because you wouldn’t keep your lips off of that ugly Asian whore? You made me try to kill myself. You did it on fucking purpose.” Ash again. She walked closer to him as he stood up and used the rows of lockers to support himself. “You never loved me.”

Even I could recognize that this whole scene was fucking crazy. Ash tried to commit suicide because Richie allegedly kissed another girl? Richie’s real good at finding keepers, isn’t he?

Richie shook his head, not daring to look her in the eye. He was staring down at the floor. “I fucking didn’t! You’re delusional. I wish you died, I re-ally do.” He was crying now, and I couldn’t blame him for his choice of words, but why was he crying? Did he still care about her? One of the girls looked in my direction, so I quickly moved away from the corner. These girls were crazy, blaming Ash’s attempted suicide on Richie. He never kissed Vivian, I should know, because I watch him all the time. They never even came close to each other. Plus, Vivian liked me. She asked me out. Why on Earth would she go back to Richie?

None of it made sense, and I was convinced that Ash never even went into a mental hospital for her attempt. She could’ve made it up, but nobody knew where she was for a week, and now she was blaming it on a boy?

“Richie, you’re disgusting.You think anyone will actually want to be with you after this?” This wasn’t Ash, just another one of her friends. I wished Richie understood that this was all overdramatic, stupid high school drama. I wish he wasn’t crying, and I wished he never had his heart broken in the first place. He wasn’t at the point of full on sobbing, but I was having enough of it. I came from around the corner, pretending I wasn’t listening to what they were saying, and paused when I came closer to them.

I looked at the girls, and then at Richie. His face was streaked with tears, and his eyes were locked on me. Was he scared, or did he have hope that I would help him out?

“Why are you crying?” I asked plainly. He stood up a little straighter and wiped his face, breaking eye contact and looking at the girls. I guess he wanted them to explain for him, like a child at the doctor’s office. He could speak for himself, so why didn’t he? 

Ash huffed. “Because he’s a cheating piece of shit.” She took another last look at both of us before turning around and walking the other way. I bet I ruined her plans to humiliate him. 

“He wasn’t cheating,” I defended him, moving closer to Richie. He stared at me, maybe shocked that I was saying anything about it. He moved closer to me, but turned to face the girls.

“See?” Richie whispers to Ash, sniffling quietly. He didn’t seriously want her back after all of this, did he? Or maybe he didn’t like her, but was trying to convince her that he didn’t do anything so she wouldn’t spread it around?

I wanted to reach out and hug him, but considering how he reacted the first time we spoke, I wasn’t sure he wanted me to touch him at all. “Right, because guys like to lie and defend each other. Fuck you, Richie, I hope you choke and die. And fuck you too. Who even are you?” she asked, the question directed at me.

I didn’t answer her question. I glared at her for a moment before deciding what to say. “Richie’s right. You are delusional.”

She didn’t say anything back. Instead she started to walk down the hallway again, and I was relieved when she finally turned a corner and left, taking her friends with her. Richie didn’t say anything to me, he just watched them leave like I did. Until I spoke.

“Tell me what happened,” I said softly, wanting to comfort him. I figured he was in his time of need and would appreciate someone to be there for him.

He would remember this next time. He would come to me again.

“She- I mean, things were normal,” he started, and I could already tell he was lying. Things weren’t normal, he hated her, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out he actually kissed Vivian. A shitty way to end a relationship, but when you’re desperate, you’re desperate. “...But then she just didn’t show up for a couple days, and wouldn’t answer my texts, so I figured… she was mad at me, or uh… I don’t really know what I assumed, but-” more rambling. I couldn’t believe this was happening. We were finally talking to each other, becoming friends, getting to know each other… would we start dating soon, or was I getting my hopes up?

“But, uh, she shows up today and everyone says she tried to kill herself… and then she blames it on me and says she’s going to ruin my life- but- I- I didn’t,” he sniffles again. More tears come out. “I didn’t kiss Vivian, I don’t know, I don’t know why I would do that… because I didn’t, and I don’t know who made it up, and I feel like everyone I date just wants to fuck m-e over, nobody...” he trails off. Another voice crack- cute. He’s crying again, rubbing his eyes with his fists, and I take this opportunity to put my arm around him.

He doesn’t even hesitate, he moves his arms around me and hugs me tight. I suspect this is the first good hug he’s had in a long time. Richie probably needed someone for a long time, and now, he has me.

“Fuck her,” I whisper, even though I don’t usually cuss. “She just wants attention, or to make you look like a bad person or whatever. Even if she did try to kill herself, it wouldn’t be your fault. You didn’t tell her to or anything.” I tell him what he wants to hear- needs to her- not only because it’s true, but because I want him to know that I trust him.

He sniffles again, and I can feel him shaking his head on my chest. “You’re probably right,” Richie says, but it’s muffled.

I take a deep breath, barely able to ground myself in the reality that this was real. This was happening, Richie and I were touching- no, hugging. Did this mean we were friends? I hoped so. 

“Girls suck,” I say softly, just to make him feel better, even if I have no idea what I’m talking about because I’d never dated a girl before. But what I really meant was that the girls he dated sucked. We could both agree on that.

“No, no, I mean, I liked her, and I liked Kaitlyn and Vivian, but I don’t know anymore. They don’t love me.” He pulled his head away from my chest and looked at me. I mean, really looked at me. I could make out details of his face I’d never noticed before. Freckles. More wet tears streaking down his face. Messy hair.

Did I mention he has brown eyes?

“Sorry I’m putting this all on you.” And then he smiled. Really, really smiled. 

“No,” I told him, really, really smiling back. “I asked.”

His smile only grew, and then he pulled his arms away from me. “What’s your name again? I forgot.”

He didn’t forget, he just never asked in the first place. Until now. But he was back to normal Richie, and that was all that mattered. “Oh. I’m Stanley.”

“Cool.” Richie wiped his face with his shirt, mostly under his eyes, but when he pulled his shirt back down off of his face I could see he was still smiling. “Well, I have to go to class, or Mrs. Uris will chew me out again. I swear, that bitch hates me.” 

I froze. Richie had my mom as an English teacher? And he thought she was a bitch?

“Wait, uh. What? What did I do?” he asked, his smile faltering. Richie could see it on my face. I wondered if I should tell him.

“Um,” I started, smiling a little from embarrassment. “Well, good luck. That’s my mom. I could probably get you out of trouble, if you want to explain what happened.”

His jaw dropped a little. “Oh, shit. Dude, I’m sorry I said that about your mom. But she does hate me. Thanks for offering, but uh… wait. You’re Jewish?” Richie asked. And there it came again. That smile.

“Yeah. Jewish.” 

“Wow. Wow… that’s really cool, actually. Um, you have to tell me about it later, though. I need to get back to English. Bye, Stanley.” He smiled wider than ever. 

“Bye.”  
I was sad to see him go, but after everything that happened, I knew he would be back soon.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is from richie's point of view. just reminding you in case you don't read the first two words for some reason!

Richie’s POV*

“Clarinets! CLARINETS!” our band teacher yelled, standing up from his seat. “It’s not that difficult! You’re slowing down, and they’re just SCALES! They’re not even that hard!”

I would’ve laughed or made a stupid joke, but Stanley was a Clarinet. He sat right in front of me, and I knew he would be able to hear. I didn’t want him to feel bad.

Ever since I made a fool of myself in the hallway, in front of Ash, Stanley, and all of those girls, I found myself clinging to him. It was crazy, because I barely even knew him when he came up to me, but he stuck by my side- for no reason!- and hasn’t left since. Stanley confused me in a lot of ways, but mostly because he hangs out with Bill Denbrough, who hates my guts and calls me a fag and used to terrorize me. He stopped doing it so much this year, and I suspect it’s because he’s in JROTC and how high of a standard the sargeants hold him to, but it didn’t make sense why Stanley hung out with Bill AND me. At first I thought Bill had told him all about me, about how I was gay and annoying, but apparently Bill didn’t say any of that. Or maybe he did, and Stanley didn’t care. 

I tried to avoid Stanley during geometry and lunch, when the two of them are together, but I talk to him in every other class we have. Maybe it confuses him, because he doesn’t seem to notice how much I hate Bill. 

“This isn’t a solo,” Mr. McCarthy went on, “but I can make it one if half of the section can’t even play the part.” Usually McCarthy was chill, but he gets frustrated with the low brass (me) very often. I guess the Clarinets were just as bad as us.

He stretched his arm out, pointing at a poor girl with dark, black hair. “Play it, Jen.” 

She looked horrified, and for good reason. She sounded horrible, squeaking all over the damn place. I was sure even I could do a better job. Maybe she was just nervous.

McCarthy sighed and put his head in his hand. “Next,” he said, without commenting on the first girl. He went down the line, all of the Clarinets being girls except for Stanley, and all of them sucking horribly. Towards the end there was a girl that sounded promising at the start, but she stopped playing midway through, and froze up too much to start again.

Stanley was the last to play, and I could see how red his ears were just from sitting behind him. I wanted to say something to make him feel better, but I didn’t want to distract him and make him do even worse.

He started off with the worst sound I’ve ever heard.

Stan took the Clarinet out of his mouth for a second, muttering a quick “Sorry,” before trying again. The second time was much better, and he outdid all of the girls by a landslide! Most of them could barely get out the first bar of music, while he did the whole entire thing. I didn’t know if the notes were right, but it sounded good, even if I hadn’t been in band for a month yet and I had absolutely no clue what I was talking about.

Once he stopped playing, McCarthy slammed his hand down on the front table. “Finally, Uris. Why didn’t you do it right the first time?” he asked seriously, before cracking a quick smile and moving to flip through some music, getting ready to yell at another section. Maybe the percussion.

The whole room was dead silent, and Stanley looked relieved to be finished. “Stan the Man!” I blurted, standing up and grabbing him by the shoulders with a smile. He turned around quickly and returned the smile, his face redder than his ears were.

The rest of the Clarinets gave him dirty looks, but it didn’t matter. Stanley was just better than they were, and it wasn’t like they didn’t have their own chance to prove it. Everyone else congratulated him, though, which I hope made him feel better.

That’s how good Stanley is, for real.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ha forgot to update yesterday so now you get two chapters! have fun

I had really started to doubt Richie. He was being so inconsistent. Richie would only talk to me in biology and band, and flat out ignored me in geometry and during lunch. Was he tired of me? That wasn’t possible, I didn’t bother him much. I considered giving him the benefit of the doubt and assuming that he thought I was tired of him, but the more I thought about it, that didn’t make sense either.

At first, I figured he just didn’t know I had geometry with him. He can be pretty forgetful sometimes, and he sits at the front of class, nowhere near me. But even after I waved at him in geometry, he gave me a forced smile and didn’t give me a second thought, continuing to talk to Beverly and Mike. So what was up with him? Were there just more important people to talk to in geometry? 

That didn’t add up either, because every class I had with Richie, at least Beverly or Mike was in it too. And even then, Richie still managed to make time for me. I didn’t have a clue why he was doing this. Maybe I was stupid for not knowing why, but one day, I decided to ask him. I was sick of just wondering why, and I wanted answers.

It was the day after McCarthy terrorized us Clarinets in front of the entire class. I was walking to his bus with him, just talking normally, when I decided to bring it up. I didn’t know what kind of response it would invoke in Richie, but I made sure he was in a good mood when I mentioned it, just in case. Luckily, Richie was pretty much always in a good mood.

“Hey,” I started, placing my hand on his shoulder and pulling him to the side of the hallway. People rushed past us and most of them didn’t seem to care, but some people gave the two of us weird looks. Richie didn’t see them, or care.

He looked up at me and narrowed his eyes, not in an angry way, more of a “what are you doing” way. “What did I do?”

It pained me to hear that. For him to ask what he did wrong. Did his past relationships make him feel like he was always the one to fuck things up? I shook my head, deciding to deal with all of that later. “Nothing. I was just wondering why you ignore me in third period. I mean, you don’t have to talk to me all the time. I was just wondering, why, you know… that class specifically.” I suddenly felt bad for asking, but the words were out, and I really was curious. I didn’t mean to make him feel bad or guilty. If I could take it back, I would’ve.

Richie frowned, staring down at the tile floor beneath our feet. Was he ashamed? Or just avoiding this topic for too long? “Uh. Yeah, well, I just don’t like… Bill. And he’s with you. Sorry,” he said quickly and dismissively, before pushing my hand off of his shoulder. He seemed to regret that, though, because he looked upset after the fact.

So Bill was the reason he was avoiding me all along? It could’ve also explained why Richie told me to “shut the fuck up” on the first day I tried to talk to him. But I still didn’t understand. Bill was fine, and I hadn’t seen him do anything to Richie. Hell, Bill even found out that I liked Richie and he was cool with it. 

“Why don’t you like him? Did he say something to you?” 

Richie turned around and shook his head slightly. I stepped next to him and started walking down the hallway with him again. “Come on. I won’t get him involved.” That was a lie. I’d probably try fixing it, but I wanted them to get along. 

He only shook his head as we left the hallway and got outside. “I don’t want to talk about it. Well, uh, I’ll see you later. I mean, I’ll text you.” Before I could respond, he turned and climbed up onto his bus, passing through the aisles of seats. I stared up at him, watching him through the glass as he greeted a few people and sat down. 

I was going to fix it. I didn’t care what Richie or Bill said.

-

The next day, I decided to talk to Bill about it.

He seemed dismissive of it, too, but I was determined. I wanted to know what happened between him and Richie. 

After ten minutes or so of pestering him, he finally cracked. “F-Fuh-Fine, Stan-lee.” That’s how he always says my name. I used to hate it at first, but it grew on me. “Richie… c-cuh-came out to me, ah-and I cuh-c-cah-called him a bunch of shuh-shit like fag and… I don’t k-... remember whuh-what I said, but I know it wuh-wh-was bad. Really b-bad. And I regret it now, but I know he h-huh-hates me. So just leave it ah-a-alone.”

I was actually a little shocked at Bill’s confession. Never in my life could I imagine Bill saying those things, especially not to Richie. But that didn’t mean it was the end.

“Hey. You can still apologize. I’m sure he would appreciate it, Bill.”

Bill looked at me and shook his head. “Really, I duh-don’t-”

I stood up from my seat and looked across the classroom, spotting Richie bothering some poor girl. One thing I noticed about him recently was that he stopped dating. If I were him, I would’ve stopped dating too, after learning everyone you love is actually full of shit. “Richie, hey, I need to talk to you,” I called, glancing down at Bill in hopes he would change his mind. I don’t know why I was hoping. He was shaking his head, telling me to stop. 

Richie did actually come over to the corner of the room where Bill and I sat, although hesitantly. “What?” he asked, his eyes locked on Bill. Unmoving. I looked at Bill, and sure enough, Bill was staring right at him too.

“Bill has something he wants to say to you.”

-

Long story short, they made up. I didn’t need them to be best friends. Just on decent terms. But that whole thing, it wasn’t like me to do. I’m not sure why I did it. 

Bill, Ben and I did start sitting at Richie’s lunch table, though. 

Guess which seat I sat in?


	15. Chapter Fifteen

I sat perched on the edge of my couch, eyes locked on the door, wondering who would show up first.

If this whole thing didn’t go well, I wasn’t sure what would happen. Would Richie still be friends with me? Bill? The only two I knew would still talk to me no matter what were Eddie and Ben. They had no part in the Bill and Richie drama, while Beverly and Mike did. That was right. Six people were coming to my house and spending the night, two of which hated each other. I wasn’t sure why I thought this would be a good idea, but this week it seemed like I was more impulsive than usual. Maybe it was just Richie rubbing off on me.

The first to arrive was Ben, who was tightly zipped into at least four different jackets. I watched him take them off one by one at the coat rack. I didn’t tell Richie that Bill would be at the sleepover, and vice versa. I wanted to see if both of them could contain themselves, or become friends. Ben was nice, I knew he wouldn’t dare be rude to my parents, and he was a close friend, one of the only people who talked to me in my classes. Even though he was shy, I thought he would be good to balance all of the drama, if anything even happened.

The second to show up was Eddie, at least twenty minutes early. I missed him so much from our old school, and I could tell he missed me too, because when he came through the door and started talking, he mentioned how I was his only friend. It kind of upset me how sad that was, but it made me feel thankful for all of the friends I did have, even if I wasn’t all that close to Mike and Beverly. Yet. Maybe he could make some friends at this sleepover too. He sat down on the couch next to Ben, neither of them talking to each other, just staring. Both of them were… definitely outcasts. Ben did get picked on a lot, and so did Eddie, for different reasons. Eddie was some kind of hypochondriac, and Ben used to get picked on a lot for his weight. I wasn’t going to force them to talk to each other, I would let it happen naturally. And they did start talking, as I greeted Richie at the door.

Richie was seventeen minutes early, not that I ever expected him to be early in the first place. He was the kind of person that thought he had time. That told me I was important to him, you know, if he left early just to come to my house. I told everyone I invited to show up at five thirty, and Mike, Beverly, and Bill were still yet to arrive.

As Richie sat down, he immediately started talking, which was good. But he did seem a little suspicious of Ben, who hung out with Bill and I, which was bad. Maybe he was wondering if I invited Bill. Worst case scenario, Richie and Bill fight. That just means they have to stay away from each other for the rest of the night, unless I was undermining the situation entirely. I didn’t want either of them to come out of here hating each other, or worse, me. Bill wasn’t homophobic anymore, so what was the big problem?

Beverly came next, and she seemed surprised, too, that Richie got there before her. She was ten minutes early. I checked my phone repeatedly, looking at the time, waiting for that Snapchat notification from Bill saying he couldn’t make it. I wanted him to come, but there was a chance he knew about everyone else who was coming- Richie, Beverly and Mike. Maybe he thought this was just a set up for all of us to gang up on him. It wasn’t. I wished I could tell him that.

Mike was next. Fifteen minutes late, and no sign of Bill. He didn’t even greet me when I opened the door, instead he walked straight past me and set his bag on the ground, off to talk to Beverly and Richie. Mike was a little rude, but I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to start drama between Mike and I when there wasn’t any. The living room was pretty lively now, due to Richie, and I wondered how my parents were holding out upstairs. I didn’t tell my mom Richie would be coming, and I hoped she wouldn’t come check on us and spot him, either. She wouldn’t be making dinner, she only told me to throw a couple of frozen pizzas in the oven if people got hungry. Hopefully, both of them would stay in bed and watch movies all night, and not come down to yell at us if we got too loud. I could probably explain Richie to her well enough, and get her to let him stay around, but I didn’t want to do that if I didn’t have to.

When six o’clock hit and I still had no sign of Bill, I gave up on him and started talking with everyone else. Maybe he had Richie or Mike on SnapMaps and saw that they were at my house. 

Okay, now I was really stretching for a conclusion. 

“So that’s everybody?” Beverly asked me, in the middle of us playing board games. I wasn’t sure why the question came up, but it did. We were playing Uno, and of course, Richie had both of his hands full with at least half of the deck. Luckily for him, we were switching hands on sevens and zeros, so he wouldn’t keep it for long. 

I nodded, pretending I wasn’t worried about Bill not showing. I pretended to invest myself in whatever was happening- Ben, drawing from the deck, Eddie laying down another plus two, and Richie groaning and drawing from the deck after Ben. Then, I had a thought. Maybe it was better this way, without Bill. 

Soon enough, we had stopped playing Uno and moved on to other things. Richie pulled off a win, somehow, and nobody expected it- nobody paid attention to him, all of us thinking he was too dumb to win. But he did it. We ended up upstairs, in my bedroom, and everyone was lying around, talking or eating or showing each other stupid videos on our phones, when my mom came into my room.

“Stanley, honey, there’s someone downstairs.” She looked around at all of us. I think she saw Richie, but if she did, she didn’t say anything about it.

I gave Eddie a look as I put my phone in my back pocket and headed downstairs. It was Bill, it had to be.

Once I reached the bottom of the steps I glanced over at the couch, and there he was. He looked upset.

“Hey,” I said quietly, moving over to talk to him. I sat next to him on the couch but kept my distance. I didn’t know if Bill was just upset or an angry upset. I’d never experienced him being angry before, and I didn’t want to find out what it would be like either.

He looked up at me and smiled weakly. “H-Hey. Sorry I’m s-suh-so late, m-my muh-mom and I got ih-into an argument.” I could see dried tears on his cheeks, and I knew immediately that he’d been crying.

“Oh. It’s fine, Bill, I hope you feel better, okay? Okay? Well, everyone’s upstairs. Try not to think about it. Oh, and I should warn you, Richie’s here,” I told him, deciding it would be better if I warned him beforehand. He nodded, sniffling quietly before he stood up. I stood up with him.

We walked upstairs in silence. The silence wasn’t what felt off, it was something else. Bill usually wasn’t an emotional person, but he seemed really worn down. Maybe it was that? 

Pushing open the door and letting Bill in, I pretended nothing was wrong. Everyone could tell that Bill had been crying, but I ignored the questioning looks, going back to my previous spot next to Eddie and including Bill in our conversation this time. Bill and Eddie turned out to be pretty good friends. I would’ve never guessed. 

-

I left to go to the bathroom, and when I came back, Beverly was whispering something into Mike’s ear. Ben was sitting next to her. I wondered when all that happened. And Bill and Eddie were carrying on, as usual, Eddie’s face red with laughter. Richie was nowhere to be found, but I found it a little weird that Beverly was whispering, most of all. 

She looked at me as I came into the room and she smiled, not saying anything. I wasn’t sure where to insert myself. I couldn’t just butt into Mike and Beverly’s conversation, because it seemed pretty serious (or, rather, secretive) and I didn’t want to interrupt Bill and Eddie, since they got along pretty well without me. My mind jumped to finding Richie, but I didn’t care that much. It wasn’t like he was in my parents’ bedroom, terrorizing them or something. I decided to sit down next to Ben, since he looked the loneliest.

“Hey,” I said, giving him a quick smile. Ben looked at me weird for a second, and then smiled back. “Hey. I’m going to tell you something,” he said back.

“Oh.” It striked me as a little odd at first, but when he whispered into my ear, it made sense immediately. 

He liked Beverly. At first I felt a little bad, because I assumed Ben had no chance with her, but that was mean. I knew it was mean. So I stopped. She wasn’t dating anyone, and definitely wasn’t with Mike. Maybe he did have a chance.

“Have you guys talked?” I asked, making the conversation seem like it was about something else.

“Yes. We have,” he grinned. “And I think… well, I’ll text you. I’ll tell you everything.” 

As Richie came back into my room with at least five cans of pop and three bags of chips, Ben’s smile grew even wider. I knew what that smile was about, and it wasn’t about food. Ben knew that Beverly liked him back.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

Richie’s POV

You’ll never guess what happened.

Beverly and Ben got together, somehow? I was always dead set on thinking Beverly and Mike were going to get together and leave me as the third wheel, but I guess I was wrong. It was me and Mike third wheeling now.

During Stanley’s sleepover party thing, Mike tagged along with us a lot, and at first it didn’t bother me, but at one point I purposefully tried to get him to leave Stanley and I alone. It didn’t work. I wondered if that was how other people felt about me- just tagging along, and won’t leave you alone. I didn’t let it get to me, though, because people called me annoying all the time. Except for Stanley, who, coincidentally, I always tried to straighten myself up around, but I didn’t do a very good job of it. Still, he wasn’t rude to me in any way. Maybe he saw me differently or he pitied me.

I wasn’t sure, because reading people was hard, so instead I pushed the thoughts away and hurried into a spot as Beverly announced we were playing truth or dare. I didn’t like these kinds of things, but I always pretended to. It wasn’t like I was scared of the dares, or even the truths, it was just the sitting and waiting. Sitting and waiting for other people to finish talking until it got to your turn.

“First, Eddie.” Beverly smiled and grabbed Mike’s empty Coke bottle from earlier, when he first came into the party. “Spin it and whoever you land on, you have to ask.” She set it in the middle, between all of us. I caught Stanley smiling from the corner of my eye. I could only assume what it was, but he seemed happy to have everyone getting along and including Eddie. Even if he did invite that stupid fucker Bill over.

Eddie leaned in and spun the bottle, his eyebrows raising as it slowed to a stop. The bottle landed on Mike. Beverly leaned over and whispered something to Mike, and Mike smiled. I wondered what they were talking about- making jokes? The only reason I paid attention to that was because I was right across from them. Ben was to my left, and Eddie to my right. Beverly was directly across from me, and Mike was to her left, and Bill to her right. I wondered how everyone felt about Bill, because I definitely knew how I felt about him.

“Truth or dare?”

Mike looked over at Beverly and then at Eddie. They were planning something. I knew they thought I was stupid, and most of the time they were right, but I could tell they were planning something when they started acting smug, and secretive, and like nobody else in the world could possibly know what they were talking about. “Dare,” Mike smiled.

“I dare you to… uh… lick someone’s foot.” Eddie looked around the circle, possibly wondering who the victim was. “Not mine,” he added quickly, crossing his legs and scooting further away from the group. I laughed. Eddie wasn’t so bad. Stanley didn’t have that much of a bad taste in friends… only when it came to me and Bill.

“Ugh, okay, who’s the most hygenic around here?” Mike asked, scanning the circle. “Stanley’s a Jew, he has to be pretty hygienic, but Beverly, girls sweat less… I don’t know. Who volunteers?”

I grinned and leaned backwards on my elbows, watching Stanley’s reaction and the group argue over whose foot Mike had to lick. Nothing of importance really happened until it was finally Stanley’s turn to get a dare.

-

“Oooh, look who’s up! Stannnley!” 

It was Mike’s voice this time. My boredom had only grew from the beginning of the game until now. I was now sitting up straight, bag of chips laying in my lap, watching Stanley as if he were the only person in the entire room. That might as well be true, anyway. 

It was Ben’s turn to dare him, and I suddenly realized that he was in on Beverly’s “plan” when Ben looked at her and made a face. Not a disgusted face, just a, “What do I do?” face. Before now, I had contemplated getting up and leaving to go distract myself with something else, but now my interest peaked. What were they even planning? Were they going to make him do something stupid?

“Dare,” Stanley said hesitantly, not even waiting for Ben to ask the question himself. I could tell he regretted it. Don’t ask me how, I just could.

“Okay,” Ben says softly, looking from Beverly to his hands neatly folded in his lap, and then to Stanley. “I dare you… to kiss, the, uh, hottest guy in the room.”

I knew immediately that the dare was Beverly’s idea. And I knew immediately that I wanted the guy to be me. But I did have a lot of competition, that being Mike and Bill- as horrible as he was, he could kind of be considered hot. 

Stanley shook his head, smiling. “No, no. Make a new one, Ben. I don’t think all of us guys want to end up kissing each other.” 

Ben bit his bottom lip and looked at Beverly again. Beverly piped up. “Really, Stanley, it’s just one- one guy. One kiss. They don’t even have to be hot, it’s just whoever you feel like kissing.”

“I don’t, um…” Stanley went on, looking around the room, his eyes landing on Eddie and then me. Was Eddie his first choice? I wanted to die. “I really don’t, um, I’m not doing it. Kissing anyone. Eddie, help?”

So that’s what it was. “He’s not gay!” Eddie piped up, and I shoveled another handful of chips into my mouth, making sure to chew as loud as possible. I wanted them to know I was bored. “I don’t want to be kissed by him, Ben, you have a girlfriend, I don’t think you want to kiss him…” Eddie continued on. He looked at Mike, Bill, and then me. He didn’t have a case for us, I guess.

“See? So just make a new dare. I’m not kissing anyone.”

Beverly crossed her arms. “Well, does anyone want to volunteer? To kiss Stanley? I’m sure someone will.” Then she looked at me. I’m not kidding. She looked at me.

Stanley stood up, shaking his head. “I’m not kissing anybody. Fuck you.” His face was blood red, and he looked like he might cry. He stormed out of his bedroom and went off somewhere. I hoped he wasn’t too upset, but it was stupid of Beverly to even plan the whole thing.

I stood up too, the bag of chips spilling all over the floor. I gave them an angry look, hoping they liked how their plan went, and left to go find Stanley.

-

I found him in the kitchen, sitting on a counter. What an odd place to be.

“Hey,” I said, just to make sure he knew I was there. He had his arms up over his face and his knees pulled back to his chest, but when I spoke, he moved his arms away from his face. 

His face was red and wet, like I described earlier, except this time worse. “What?” he snapped, and my lips parted in shock. This was the first time he’d ever snapped at me, or acted like he was mad at me. Usually with my friends it was every day they told me to shut up, or stop fidgeting, or leave them alone. Never Stanley.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, before resting his chin on his knee. “I’m just mad. And embarrassed, now, because I had to leave my own fucking slumber party. I should’ve just kissed Ben to piss both of them off, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t kiss anyone.”

I climbed up onto the counter across from him, and reached out to grab his hand. “It’s fine. If someone told me to kiss the hottest guy in the room, I’d probably get mad too.” That was a lie, a total lie. If someone told me to kiss the hottest guy in the room I’d grab Stanley like my life depended on it and kiss him smack on the lips, but I wasn’t dared, and Stanley was the one being comforted here. He didn’t believe it, because he opened his mouth to object, but just shook his head instead.

“Whatever. Thanks for coming to check on me, I bet you’re the only one, right?”

“Yeah. Sorry it’s just me.”

“No. It’s fine. I’d rather have you than anyone else,” he mumbled, grabbing a clump of his hair and resting his knuckle against the cabinet. “You know, the reason I couldn’t do it is because, uh, I actually did have a crush in there,” Stanley told me, looking over at me as if he regretted saying anything. “But, um, I didn’t want to lie to them and kiss someone else. And if I didn’t lie, I knew I wouldn’t be able to actually do it. To, um, kiss them.” The tears stopped coming, and he was less aggressive, but he was still embarrassed after all of it. 

“Oh. So, your crush. Who is it?” I asked, looking down at our hands. His hands were so fucking cold, it was like he stuck them in a freezer for a week or something.

“I’m not telling you.” And he smiled, for the first time since he stormed off. I was glad I could make him smile, if I couldn’t do anything else. I thought back to the time he made me feel better, the first time we talked. I was glad we met, and that he stepped in, even if I looked like a pussy at the time.

“Okay. Fine. Well, you wanna go back up there? Just tell them that we kissed and you’ll get out of it. I’m a good liar, I like to think, at least.” I slid off of the counter, letting go of Stanley’s hand, but he grabbed me, my hip banging against the pointy edge of the counter. “Ow! Bitch,” I muttered, before he pulled me even closer and kissed me.

I was so shaken up at first I couldn’t move, and when he finally let go of me, I stayed completely still, standing in that same spot. “What?” was the only thing I could get out. “What?”

I spent all of this time wondering if he liked me, that he had to make the first move. I felt like an idiot.

“It’s you. Sorry. Pretend nothing happened. Go home if you want, we never have to talk to each other again,” Stanley spoke quickly, sliding off of the counter and heading down the hallway, presumably to go back upstairs. 

“No!’ I said, running to catch up with him. “I’m not going home, god. I like you too. I promise.” I grabbed his hand, hoping he wouldn’t go upstairs and immediately tell everyone that I was going home and he was ready to kiss someone. Stanley did stop, and he turned around, looking me fully in the face.

“Oh. Oh God. Really? Fuck, what? Okay. Well, I mean- um- good. Uh…” he trailed off, looking away and smiling. “Well, we should keep it a secret, my mom is uh… I don’t know how she’ll take it.”

I smiled, letting go of his hand and putting my arm around his shoulders in return. “Okay,” I told him, starting to walk back up the stairs and to his bedroom again. “I can do that. I didn’t think you’d like me.”

“Me neither,” he joked.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> forgot to post yesterday! sorry, but here's the final chapter. some things could definitely be improved, but writing this was fun and i hoped you liked reading it.

By the time we ate breakfast the morning after the sleepover, pretty much everyone knew that Stanley and I had gotten together.

It was really hard to hide things, especially with five other people around us the whole time, but we almost made it all night until Beverly started teasing Stanley, trying to get the truth out of him, and he cracked under pressure. I wasn’t mad at him, though. I could never be mad at him.

We sat at the dining room table, everyone eating waffles normally with a plate and knives and forks. I folded my waffle up in my hand, though, and added syrup as I went. No point in wasting perfectly clean dishes. I wasn’t listening to whatever Eddie, Mike, Beverly and Bill were saying, instead caught up in staring at Stanley’s face, but I could tell they weren’t talking about anything too serious. Stanley’s mom was thankfully out of the kitchen, after telling us earlier to just throw the frozen waffles in the toaster, as if we didn’t know any better. I guessed that was my fault, but I really wasn’t as stupid as I pretended to be in her class.

“Okay! That’s it, we take a vote.” Beverly looked across the dining room table at the rest of us, those who weren’t involved in the discussion- me, Stanley, and Ben. “Raise your hand if you agree,” she said, without much other context.

Mike read the confusion on my face and added, “Our group name is the Losers’ Club. If you don’t like it, don’t raise your hand.”

It didn’t sound too dumb, and I wasn’t in the right headspace to think of anything else, so I rose my hand and finished my third waffle in a row, my right hand remaining sticky and waffleless. Stanley shrugged, raised his hand and looked at me. Everyone had their hands up.

“Okay. We’re the Losers’ Club,” Beverly smiled.

They broke into conversation once again as I stood up to throw another waffle in the toaster. I put one in and pulled the slider down, putting the timer on four. I wasn’t sure if that was actually a timer, or why there were options up to seven and eight if the waffle burned at 5, but that wasn’t my problem. As I waited, I leaned against the counter and stared at them quietly, a smile on my face. 

That was when I finally realized I loved them. Every single one of them, including Bill. 

Stanley was right to bring us all together.


End file.
